Sometimes I Walk
by Shiba Ayame
Summary: Sometimes, I walk when I can't sleep. Roxas's POV, shonenai, emoness. Oneshot.


Yay, first Roxel shonen-ai fic. I hope it doesn't turn out too bad.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts. If I did, then I would be able to cosplay as Roxas without making my own damn crappy costume with the checker-print made out of Sharpie marker… ::goes on a rant::

Sometimes I Walk

Oneshot

Sometimes I walk.

Sometimes, when there's nobody else around, I walk through Oblivion.

I'll browse through Marluxia's flower garden, smelling the sweet scent of roses on the clean greenhouse air.

I'll cuddle up with a book in the library Zexion loves so much, with a hurricane lamp lit and the rain rasping against the windowpanes.

I'll sit there in Demyx's studio, wishing I could use an instrument as an outlet for the emotion Xemnas says I don't have.

And sometimes I'll just walk. Just take my time through the many corridors and halls of the castle, dank and dreary in its "I need some color" white walls. I'll sort through my thoughts, sort through problems, sort through just about anything. All by myself.

I would be alone with myself in my mind, no noises to distract, no images to catch my eye.

But that "sometimes" did not include one night.

I walked through the halls, like usual, damp dark and dreary. It was a stormy night, and when I go on my occasional walk on stormy nights is when I go to Zexion's library. I still held the hurricane lamp, the oil sloshing around quietly.

At first, I just thought it was the rain.

So I shook my head and kept walking. _You're hearing things,_ I told myself. And just as I walked through the hall back to my room, at the far end, I passed everyone else's rooms. Everything seemed calm and quiet, even with the thunder pounding and lightning splitting the dark night sky.

And then, I heard the noise again.

I blinked, stopping when I got closer to the noise. It was more constant now, soft as if muffled by a pillow. "Usually I'm the only one awake," I whispered to nobody in particular. Creeping slowly forward, I inched my way closer to the sound. Within the minute, I stopped in front of the door the noise was coming from.

The label on the wooden obstruction read, "VIII."

"Axel," I whispered, pushing the door open lightly, as not to awaken anybody else.

Sure enough, there was the pyromaniac himself tossing and turning on his bed, the lightning occasionally casting a spiky hair-based shadow on a nearby wall. Even from where I stood in the doorway for a moment, I could see the light sheen of perspiration on his face. I steeped into the room, pulling the door mostly shut behind me.

Rushing to his side, I lightly nudged him, paying close attention to the small tears rolling down a cheek. "Axel," I muttered. "Axel, wake up." I sat down on the edge of his bed, vaguely registering in my mind that this was something a mother would do.

Slowly, reluctantly, his dreary eyes fluttered open, blinking repeatedly to gain focus. His hand found his forehead, wiping off as much sweat as he could. "What, is there some attack on the castle or something?" His eyes settled on me. "Oh, it's just you. I thought it was Xemnas waking everyone up."

"You were having a nightmare. I thought it would be good to wake you up." _Damn it, I can never say the right things at the right time._

"Oh, well, that's nice." He sat in silence for a painful minute. "Hey, can you do me a favor?" He looked at me with a somewhat saddened look in his eyes. I nodded. "Could you… sleep with me tonight?" he asked timidly, almost like a child asking if their mommy was alright.

I blinked. "What?"

He half-shut his eyes, in obvious dislike of the brightness of occasional lightning brightening the otherwise dark room for a split second. "Not like that," he muttered. "I meant, just stay here with me. Please." His hand rested gently on my arm. Noticing the pain in his eyes, I nodded.

"Sure."

Sliding off my shoes, I lifted the sheet and crawled into bed with the redhead. I only wore baggy sweatpants and a clingy t-shirt to wander the castle, so I didn't need to take anything off. I lay down on my back, glimpsing the white ceiling, then turning to my left side to face Axel, who was half looking at me, half spaced-out, fresh tear-trails passing over the tattoos on his face.

"Axel," I whispered.

He closed his eyes, wiping his face with a free hand. "Xemnas keeps saying that we can't feel. We can't be happy or be sad; we can't feel joy or pain. And that we can't love." He shifted onto his back, hands behind his head. "But every time it rains, I swear I remember what it's like." He paused. "It makes me think of what life was like before everything turned out the way it did. Sometimes, I almost remember what it's like to feel remorse after killing someone, even the joy of something so simple as finding snow on the ground in Winter."

I propped myself up on my side, listening intently. I had never heard Axel talk so solemnly before. He continued on his soliloquy. "And sometimes, when I see that I'm surrounded by people I don't absolutely hate, I remember what friendship was like."

I blinked, staring at him. And what was I to him? Less than a friend?

He noticed my staring, and decided to elaborate. "But when I look at you, I don't know what I'm reminded of anymore, I don't know what I feel anymore."

"Axel, we can't feel-"

"No," he broke in, "that's just what they tell us. I believe we can feel. I believe we can feel just as well as any full person." He sighed, in somewhat exasperation. Judging by the tone of his voice, he was unable to find the words to what he was trying to say. "I've been so used to not feeling for so long, I just don't know anymore." He slouched over in mental defeat.

"Well," I suggested, wrapping my arms around his droopy form and pulling moderately close, "sometimes I walk. It clears out my mind." I could feel him instinctively cuddle closer. "This sounds like something Vexen would say, but can you… explain it?" I looked down at his mass of red spikes. "I might be able to help."

Axel shook his head. "It's strange. I don't think I can." I patted my hand on his lithe back reassuringly, urging him to try. He nodded. "Well, every time I see you, it makes me want to smile for some reason. Like, I dunno, a light in an otherwise dreary world. God, I sound kinda emo."

"No, you don't. Keep going."

"Well, sometimes I get the urge to hug you. Like, a little kid with a stuffed bear or something. It's weird."

I nodded, like a psychiatrist would. I already knew what he was talking about- it was the reason I walk. But I was just interested in what he had to say. "Anything else?"

He shook his head. "Not really, I don't think… Let's just get some sleep." He laid himself down. I followed suit, settling on my right side, away from him. I kinda didn't want him to see the look on my face; and he probably had an embarrassed look on his he didn't want me to see just as well.

Though, it was a welcome relief he couldn't see the light blush when he wrapped an arm, gingerly, around my waist. He pressed his chest to my back just as gently, trying not to scare me. My eyes smiling, I eased into his personal space, growing more comfortable with every passing second.

Soon, Axel fell asleep. His arm still around me, he subconsciously tried to roll onto his back while still holding me. I smiled, twisting to my left side and resting my head on his bare chest, my right hand coming around and lacing my fingers with his left.

"Love," I whispered. "That's what you feel." I yawned, feeling the wave of sleep threaten to wash over me. "And that's what I feel, too."

So sometimes, when I need to sort things out, I walk.

I walk to Axel's room and fall into our comfortable, sleepy, loving world.

Kinda odd. Yeah, I was listening to the depressing half of the original KH soundtrack while I wrote this. I needed to write for the AkuRoku fandom.

My settings on my computer have it set so the window setup is blue. I think that kinda helped with the whole slightly depressing theme.

So, review. Or Axel will burn a "I Suck Ansem" mark on your ass.


End file.
